


And When You Move, I'm Moved

by Theyna_Shipper



Series: Theyna One-Shots [9]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bars, Dancing, Drinking, F/F, Fascination, Inspired by a Hozier Song, Neighbors, Pianist Reyna, Piano, Pining, What else is new?, clubs, composer, falling in love with strangers, getting drunk, i am a useless lesbian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28122624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theyna_Shipper/pseuds/Theyna_Shipper
Summary: I need to stop this,Reyna thinks as she steps into the club for the fifth time that week. And she knows she won’t when the beautiful girl walks in again, sits down all the way on the other end of the bar, and orders vodka cranberry, and spends a few minutes drinking it before getting up.This is what Reyna comes for every night. This what keeps her up at night and distracted during the day. It’s this girl, her black hair and piercing blue eyes, her black skinny jeans and leather vests with pins, the tattoo sleeve on her left arm, the piercing on her ears and lips.Reyna wonders how the lip piercings would feel to kiss.But it’s not how she looks or what she wears or any of that, it’s when she walks out onto the dance floor and starts to sway.~Reyna can't stop watching the girl at the club dancing.
Relationships: Thalia Grace/Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano
Series: Theyna One-Shots [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1555150
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	And When You Move, I'm Moved

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I've been neglected my Theyna, but here's a little fluff and angst piece for y'all. I've been listening to the lesbian poet (Hozier) and 'movement' really inspired me. Also, I went to the park today and a beautiful girl rollerblading made eye contact with me and I immediately fell in love, so this was kind of made out of my fantasies of connecting with people without actually needing to speak to them. I hope you like it!

_I still watch you when you're groovin'_

_As if through water from the bottom of a pool_

_You're movin' without movin'_

_And when you move, I'm moved_

* * *

_I need to stop this,_ Reyna thinks as she steps into the club for the fifth time that week. And she knows she won’t, when she shows the bouncer her ID and takes her place at the bar. 

She knows she won’t, when she takes her place at the bar and gets a beer without even having to ask Lavinia. 

She knows she won’t when the beautiful girl walks in again, sits down all the way on the other end of the bar, and orders vodka cranberry, and spends a few minutes drinking it before getting up. 

This is what Reyna comes for every night. This what keeps her up at night and distracted during the day. It’s this girl, her black hair and piercing blue eyes, her black skinny jeans and leather vests with pins, the tattoo sleeve on her left arm, the piercing on her ears and lips. 

Reyna wonders how the lip piercings would feel to kiss. 

But it’s not how she looks or what she wears or any of that, it’s when she walks out onto the dance floor and starts to sway. 

She doesn’t take anyone with her. She refuses anyone who asks to dance with her. She moves her body to the music, but as if there is a whole song she can hear that no one else can. 

Reyna wishes she could know this song. 

She’s so confident, so in her element, so beautifully relaxed. As far as she’s concerned, she doesn’t have an audience. It almost feels like a violation to watch her, when she’s so clearly doing this for no one but herself. 

So Reyna throws back the rest of her beer and storms out of the bar, her stilettos clicking to the rhythm of the dance.

* * *

It is another two weeks before Reyna learns her name. 

Lavinia, bless her soul, finally asks, “You’re watching Thalia?”

“The little black-haired girl with the undercut? Yeah,” Reyna mumbles, horribly feigning nonchalance.

“You should try talking to her.”

Reyna laughs. “Sure. That’ll work.”

“Oh, god, the ‘she’s out of my league’ complex,” Lavinia snorts. “I’ve seen too much of that. Come on, anyone can see you want to.”

“I don’t want to talk to her.” That’s true, actually. She doesn’t want to talk to Thalia. She wants to watch her dance, and hope that somehow they telepathically connect. That Thalia will drag her out there and make her feel that happy, that confident. 

“You think every girl here wouldn’t die if the tall buff girl in the boots and the purple dress talked to her?”

“She’s different,” Reyna mumbles, but now Thalia is walking her way and she can’t stay.

* * *

Now that she knows her name, Thalia owns Reyna’s life.

Maybe, she thinks, if she had a boring office job, or if she was a florist, or a tattoo artist, or a barista, this would be easier. 

But when she’s sitting at the piano that is covered with cigarette burns and water rings, all she can think about is _would Thalia dance to this?_

She pounds a quartal stack into the piano to finish the melody, then throws her hands into her lap, unsatisfied. 

Then, she hears a knock from the ceiling. 

She ignores it, and tries to find the melody she’d been picking out. 

The knock comes back. 

“What is it?” she shouts. 

“What was that song you just played?”

Reyna sighs. “I don’t know yet.”

Silence. 

“Can you play it again?” 

“Not sober,” Reyna mutters. Who said it, _Write drunk, edit sober?_ Hemingway? But he wasn’t talking about music. And she’s not thinking about words. 

“You don’t have to,” the voice adds. 

“It’s okay,” Reyna replies. “Just let me find it again.”

The tune is probably a little different as she tries to improvise it a second time, but upstairs is applauding against the floor. 

“Paper,” Reyna mumbles. “ _Dammit, paper,_ ” she growls, digging through her piano binders for blank manuscript paper. 

_Maybe she would dance to this,_ she thinks.

* * *

She brings her notebook to the bar, drawing Thalia in abstract, drawing the arcs of her body in motion, hoping she’ll understand what she meant by it later. 

She tries to find it on the piano, or when she sings, or even when she tries to tap it out on her acrylic nails in the hopes that the spirit of Dolly Parton might bless her. 

There is _something_ there, she’s certain. 

Occasionally a clap or a snap from upstairs will encourage her, but when she gets stuck somewhere even divine encouragement can’t help her. 

“Try a deceptive cadence,” the voice says. “For that phrase.”

Reyna picks out the chords on the keyboard. 

“I’m no composer,” she adds. “But it feels like the right amount of… I don’t know, suspense?”

Reyna plays it again, and then fits it into the phrase and the rest of the section, and then plays it again as a thank-you to the voice upstairs. 

_Maybe,_ Reyna thanks, _Maybe she will dance to this._

* * *

When she sees Thalia at the corner store, it’s like different elements of her life bleeding all together. And even as she peruses the candy aisle, she sways in time to a song she’s humming to herself– no song that Reyna knows, but something so beautiful, so seductive, like a siren’s melody. She tries to keep the tune in her head to take it home and find it, but it’s lost by the time she gets to the counter and puts a bottle of cheap booze on the counter. 

She is drunk when she finds the tune. It’s _her_ song, she realizes, the one she’s been working for days on end. But she’s too drunk to process why Thalia knew it, or that the thumping sounds above her might be dancing to her music, or to notice anything that maybe she should have noticed a while ago.

* * *

When she goes to the bar two days later, she is still tapping at the song with her nails on the bar, she can’t get it out of her head. 

Thalia sits next to her and starts humming it. 

Reyna gets up to leave, because she feels like she will literally burn, in fiery glory, if she stays this close to Thalia for another second. 

But Thalia follows her, and instead of guiding her out the door she finds herself drifting towards the dance floor, and over her shoulder she sees Lavinia mouthing _talk to her_ , and for once, Reyna thinks she hears the music Thalia is dancing too.

* * *

_When you move_

_I'm put to mind of all that I wanna be_

_When you move_

_I could never define all that you are to me_

_So move me, baby_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'd love your feedback, thanks for reading. Have a great December!


End file.
